Fore and aft of my eyes
A moon landscape.
Amidst ashes and blazes,
Rubble chant my decay.
I, from dark, oscillate to dark.
Pied Piper flutes within each.
Weave me into their grey zones,
Allure me in their grey holes.
And I fall, I fall, I fall
Tenaciously,
Beyond the fifty shades,
I try to put up with,
I try to fathom what
remains of debris as I
Be present to the absent me,
Be present to the shadow me,
Be present to the shatter me,
Be present to the unknown me.
And I, like a phoenix bird
That swallows the dark to light,
I rise, I rise, and up I rise
S.C.P.BIBA
S.C.P.B
So-called Poetry of Biba 